The crowd raised their voices. Little by little, everyone started getting invested in the match. Even the ones who were spending most of the ti in class getting so shut-eye opened their eyes to watch.
Of course, I kept Feyt’s eyes shut to focus, but the cheering and gossiping would only grow louder the longer the match went on.
It was still far from the level of actually hindering , and I would need to learn to tolerate noise in the first place if I were ever to fight in an arena.
Without warning, Lechter launched forward again.
I held my ground firmly. If my foot were to stand just slightly off balance, I would be flying back from the strike.
This ti, I couldn’t afford just to block. I needed to redirect his flow. A strong strike ant strong montum, and I could only hope his own strength would be his own folly.
Our wooden blades made contact, and the mont they did, I tried to push his montum to the side. But what I found instead was my own arm shifting and trembling. His strength was enough to stop any movent of my arms, locking our blades.
“How disappointing,” he said, his voice low.
“What the—” I muttered.
Lechter let out a small grunt before he raised his foot and kicked . I was sent flying back and landed on my back with a heavy thud, the wind knocked out of .
“Point to Lechter,” Instructor Liz’s voice echoed faintly in Carine’s ears, yet clearly in Feyt’s.
The pain lingered, and it travelled all the way to my other body as well. It took quite a bit of effort not to react to it. What I did react to, however, were his words when we locked blades.
Did he really just ‘how disappointing'd' ?
I lay there for a mont, catching my breath as I watched the ceiling dry. But a Duke’s daughter shouldn’t be seen lying on the ground in defeat like this. If word got out, Mother would be furious.
So, I slowly got up. I rolled my shoulders and neck for a mont before walking back to my spot. Then, as if nothing had happened, I assud my stance and faced Lechter again.
That earlier smug face that I so wanted to beat before was nowhere to be found. Again, he stared at intensely.
Instructor Liz raised her hand once more, and I was ready to make my next move. But before her hand even ca down, Lechter spoke.
“You don’t deserve your na.”
Well. That settled it. If it wasn’t obvious before, it surely was now.
The guy absolutely hated my guts.
Why did he hate my guts?
Why is it so intense?
Whatever the reason was, I didn’t have ti to unpack that can of worms he was harboring. Instructor Liz’s hand finally chopped down through the air.
“Begin!”
Lechter didn’t wait. He blurred forward, his wooden blade whistling as it cut a vicious arc toward my shoulder. But this ti, I wasn't trying to block, and I wasn't trying to redirect either. My arms had had enough torture.
Instead, the mont I knew he was about to deliver the swing, I dropped down and dipped under his attack, the rushing air lifting my hair. I didn’t waste any ti and imdiately lunged straight for his exposed underside, driving my poml forward.
But the strike never landed.
Before the wood could et his ribs, Lechter's hand shot down and clamped directly over my poml. He had caught my weapon, trapping my hands completely.
I saw his hand move. I had noted how quick it was to shift from the hilt of his sword to my poml. Yet even after seeing it, I couldn’t believe it.
How fast is this guy?
But I had no ti to panic. I imdiately pulled back, slipping free of his grip, and quickly took several steps back and to the side to gain so neutral space.
Our weapons ca up, and we were circling each other, but Lechter didn’t imdiately charge. He just stared at , his eyes burning with a simring sense of disgust.
"So this is how soft you really are," he said, his voice dropping low.
I let out a sigh. “If you’ve got sothing to say, just say it.”
I have had enough of vague BS.
He looked like he didn’t even register my words. As we continued to circle each other, he continued.
“You’re holding back, aren’t you?”
How in the world am I holding back?
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“The mont I saw our scores on the entrance exam, your na never left my mind.” Lechter continued. “Carine Sareid. First place. Amazing written exam scores. Astounding practical exam scores.”
My grip tightened around my sword’s hilt.
I knew he was going to bring that up eventually.
“At first, I wanted to congratulate you. Then, I learned how you won. You didn’t win out of your own strength… You instead dragged a bunch of dead weight across the finish line with you.”
Dead weight?
Slowly, I began to piece together what made him frustrated with . With it, I found a way to diffuse the situation.
This is about his pride, isn’t it?
I was accepting of conceding to that. I couldn’t have reached first place without Eveliana, Clarissa, Kyro, and Villius. The fact that Lechter managed to reach a score nearing mine all alone proved he was far more fitting for first place.
If admitting to that would calm him down, then I’d gladly do it.
“I understand that you’re not happy with how I got my results. I admit that I wouldn’t have got first place if it weren’t for their—”
“—No, no no. That’s the thing,” he interrupted. “You, of all people, should have enough strength to reach first place without their help. You’re observant, you’re quick-witted, you have all you need to gather those flags by yourself with ease…”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a fierce, gravelly whisper.
“Yet you choose to share the glory. Why would you choose to lower yourself so that others could stand beside you? Others who just wanted to use your title as a Duke’s daughter for their own gains? It’s disgusting.”
I let out a tired sigh.
I misjudged his reasons.
Turns out, he was crazier than I thought.
It was one thing for him to feel slighted by how I got my exam scores, but hearing him diss the people who had actually bled alongside , the ones who chose to stay behind to save from Cornellia... the ones I actually called my friends?
I found it incredibly irritating.
Fine, I thought, my grip locking onto the wooden hilt until my knuckles turned white. No more diffusing.
"Are you two planning on staring each other to death, or are you going to fight?" Instructor Liz's voice barked.
I shook my head.
"Excuse us, Instructor," I called out. "We're ready."
I heard a single chuckle co out of her. It seed even she found our little interaction amusing for so reason.
The crowd’s voice began to grow numb in my ears as I reclaid my focus and directed it solely at the kid before . I stared at him with the sa intensity he directed at .
Lechter charged forward. I relaxed my eyes as I analyzed what he was aiming to do. And in true, basic fundantals fashion, he was aiming for an overhead strike. He wanted to crush my guard, shatter my stance, and prove his point in a single blow.
I readied myself as his blade ca down.
Then, at the absolute last mont, I shifted my stance.
I only feigned a block, a bait he took so easily. I tilted my blade at a precise, fluid angle, letting his heavy downward strike hit nothing, rely sliding against the wood that had gone out of its way. The sheer montum of his own overcommittnt pulled him forward, throwing him completely off-balance.
Before he could recover, I stepped directly into his guard, closing the distance.
With a sharp twist of my hips, I drove the butt of my sword upward, striking the underside of his hilt with snappy, strong force. Because Lechter had put all of his power on snapping my blade that wasn’t there, his grip couldn't compensate for a sudden, violent strike snapping up at it.
The wooden sword flew forward from his palms, spinning through the air slightly before clattering loudly onto the wooden floor among the crowd. He stared at it in silence, his body still perfectly imitating the downward strike.
Then, without any words, he walked forward and grabbed his sword before walking back to his spot. He turned back to as he raised his weapon.
My chest heaved as I stared at him, waiting for him to break in denial.
Instead, he was chuckling.
“This… this is the Carine I want to fight.”
I blinked, keeping my sword leveled at him.
Is this guy serious?
"Don't flatter yourself," I said, my voice dropping low, unconsciously channeling the sa cadence as Mother’s. "I haven't stopped holding back, or whatever it is you thought I did. I rely decided that so sense must be knocked into you."
His eyes narrowed.
“The people who helped in the exam? I have no qualms about calling them my friends. Never once did I lower myself to let them stand beside . They are my equals, just as I am theirs. So, if you think you can insult them just to feed your own warped sense of pride…”
I aid the tip of my sword straight at him.
“Then I simply must break that pride of yours.”
His expression darkened as his eyes narrowed into a glare. The air around him turned thin, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened around his weapon.
“Pride…? You think this is about pride?”
I let out a small scoff. “What else could it be?”
Lechter didn’t answer. The silence that followed was heavy. His smile was completely gone. His jaw set, his entire posture locking into a rigid yet aggressive stance that promised no rcy.
I adjusted my stance one last ti, anchoring my feet to the floor, matching his deadly focus with my own.
Then… Instructor Liz’s hand dropped.
“Begin!”
We moved at the exact sa fraction of a second. The final round evolved into a sequence of wood clashing against wood. There was no more talking. Just continuous back and forth.
Lechter lunged with a thrust aid at my chest, but I pivoted, the tip of his blade scraping past my uniform. I countered with a quick slash to his flank, which he parried with a brutal, heavy block that sent a jarring shockwave straight up to my shoulders. But I was at a point where it didn’t even register.
Whatever it takes… I needed to prove him wrong.
And I believed that sa thought echoed inside him.
We exchanged strikes, dodged, and blocked in a rapid, chaotic rhythm. The training hall echoed with the sharp, deafening clacks of our weapons.
Every ti I dodged, his blade was already returning for a follow-up.
Every ti I struck, he was ready to block it.
But as the seconds ticked away, I saw it. The proof of my theory on why his techniques were so painfully basic.
Beneath his blinding speed and crushing power, there was stiffness. The rigidity of soone who barely learned the basics.
Amidst our swings, I had found the answer I was looking for.
"Say, you told I was holding back," I said, my voice steady over the scraping of our weapons.
Lechter’s eyes widened slightly as I began pushing him back.
"But it seems you haven’t looked into a mirror lately."
Before he could even process the words, I released the tension on my blade. Instead of fighting his push, I completely collapsed my guard, letting his strong forward motion pass by as I dropped low, dipping beneath his outstretched arms, and executed a quick step underneath his blade.
I moved entirely out of his line of sight, slipping into his blind spot. In the blink of an eye, I was standing directly behind him.
Lechter froze. The realization hit him a mont before he could even begin to turn his head. He tried to spin around, but it was already too late.
The cold edge of my wooden blade was already pressed firmly against the side of his neck.
He stopped dead in his tracks, his breath hitching. The entire room was suffocatingly silent.
"Swordplay… isn't what your hands were made for, is it?"
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